Scars
by poeticmelodies
Summary: My name is Alice Blaine. This year, in the year 2005, I turned 18. I found out my father was a serial killer. I, myself, was kidnapped and tortured. And with nothing left, I ended up finding something within a certain genius. And this is my story.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello! This is me attempting to write a Criminal Minds fan fiction, featuring the lovely and handsome Spencer Reid. So bear with me, I'm not very good at this type of stuff. Send in reviews, and enjoy the first chapter!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds in any way, shape, or form. The character Alice Blaine, and other OCs are mine, though. :)**

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My name is Alice Blaine. I have light brown hair, that's kind of feathery and light, that reaches a bit past my shoulders. I have obnoxiously bright green eyes, and freckles that cover almost my whole face. I stand at only five foot, two inches, and I'm pretty skinny. I live in a small cliche town in Virginia. This year, in the year 2005, I turned 18. And this is my story.

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It was a nice summer evening when it happened. When I heard the screams coming from the back yard. Now, I lived in a nice neighborhood. I had the biggest back yard, the one everyone would come over and play in when we were all young. It used to have the biggest swing set ever, but now there's a pool and a huge shed, where we have a pool table and ping pong table. There's even a tv in the shed. But things were going on in this shed that I didn't know about.

I lived with my father. My mother took my younger sister and left me with my father when I was six, not being able to stand him, or me, I suppose. I hadn't heard from my mother since she left. I'd get a post card from my sister once in a while, from all over the country. My father was a decent guy, I figured. He worked full time at the local fishing store, along with his life long friend, and he liked to take walks and bring home injured animals for us to help. But things started getting strange around the time I turned 15. He became distant. He refused to look me in the eye. It was all very odd to me.

Now those screams I mentioned. It was a lovely summer evening, warm and breezy, a high of 78. I was just relaxing in my room, sitting on my bed reading some Lewis Carroll when I heard them. The screams. I thought it was just my father watching tv, so I ignored it, not thinking anything of it. Then it happened again. Screams, these ones different. I began to feel...just feel something in my gut. I needed to go to these screams. I put the book down on my bed and went down the stairs, to the back door. I walked slowly, trying to find the screams. They continued to get louder and louder. I followed the sound to the shed and I paused outside the shed door, putting my hand on the doorknob. I felt my body begin to panic. I stood almost paralyzed. My heart beat began to rush as the screams got louder. My breathing got so shallow that I began to have trouble breathing.

Suddenly, the screams stopped. Like they were cut off. Silence. The only things I could hear was the blood pounding in my hears. Then I heard footsteps. Loud footsteps, like my father's. They were getting close to the door, and I began to panic even more. The knob to the door began to jiggle a little, opening. I let go, dropping my hand. I felt an adrenaline rush course through my body. Fight or flight. I felt my breath hitch, then all I remember after that is my flight.

I ran all the way to the police station in town. It was a small town, so the station was one you'd find on the main street. Robin Avenue. That was the main street. The station sat in the middle, next to the barber shop. Typical cliche small town, right? I ran all the way there, three miles in my flip flops. The adrenaline kept me going. I began to cry on the way there, and I had trouble breathing, but I had to keep running. I ran straight into the station, and when they asked what was wrong, I couldn't even tell them. I wasn't even sure myself. The chief sent cars to my house, and I was still crying. A woman sat me down into a chair, and I just cried. I cried and cried and couldn't breathe. I waited for my father to show up, my uncle, someone. Then I remember hearing the words, "Three girls, found in the shed. All raped and slaughtered." And that's when I passed out.


	2. Chapter 2

**Here's the second installment. I'm just on a roll today! Please let me know what you think, leave a review for me!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize from Criminal Minds. CBS owns all of that. But characters like Alice and Detective Carsen are mine. :)**

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I was woken up by the only detective in our town. Detective Carsen. He was tall and kind, but could be firm and strict when needed. He was a friend of my father's, he used to eat dinner with us every once in a while. I used to call him "Uncle" when I was young. He woke me up with a gentle push on my shoulder, and it startled me terribly. I was laying on a couch somewhere in the station, and I almost fell off the couch. I was scared for a second, I didn't remember where I was. Then it clicked in my head. The screams. The miles I had run.

"Alice, hun, you gotta get up and talk to some people for me, okay?" He whispered at me, holding out a hand. I grabbed it and he pulled me up, holding onto my hand until I was steady. My vision was blurry, but I could see well enough to move around. I followed the blurry shadow of the detective into his office, the largest room in the station, where five or six people stood. My vision cleared and I could see the people easily. Two older men, a dark skinned man, two young women and a young man. They all stood in a cluster, close together, kind of like a family.

The oldest one there was a man who reminded me of my father. He looked casual, yet stern and in charge. He came over to me and shook my hand, and began to speak to me in a kind voice. "Hello, Alice. I'm SSA Jason Gideon. My team and I are from the Behavioral Analysis Unit at the FBI. We're here investigating the murders that took place in your shed today." I felt myself choke up when he said murders. Who would murder someone in my own shed? I nodded at him, letting him know that I understood. "Would you come this way, please, Alice?" He gestured to a table in another room, just a few feet away from Carsen's office. I followed him and another agent.

This agent was very young, much younger than the rest. He seemed to be about 23 or 24, and he was like a stick. He was much taller than I, he stood probably a foot or so taller than me, and was probably skinnier than I. He had hair that fell into his face, which he kept brushing back, and eyes that looked troubled. He walked along side me, while Agent Gideon walked in front of me. I followed him into the room and sat down in the chair at the table. Agent Gideon sat across from me while the young agent stood, leaning against the wall.

"Am I in trouble?" I asked quietly, my voice cracking. I hadn't spoken in a while, I realized. I needed water...one of the women agents, a blonde with a pretty smile came in and put a glass of water on the table, along with a granola bar. I thanked her quietly and watched as she left the room.

"No. We just need to ask you some questions. About what you saw, what you heard." Agent Gideon responded with such confidence and kindness. I felt comfortable around him. The other agent hadn't spoken yet, however. I studied his features for a moment, and he looked...haunted. Lost. I noticed that he held a cup of coffee in his hands, and he only sipped from it once or twice. "Now, Alice," Agent Gideon's voice jolted me from my observations, "What you told Detective Carsen did not really make much sense. You were confused and upset, crying while you tried to tell your story." I nodded. "I believe that if I ask you to tell me your story again, it'll be the same thing you told the detective. And we don't want that, it won't help us. So we're going to do a cognitive interview. Do you know what that is?"

I had never heard those words before. "No, I don't." I gave him a shrug and finally the young agent spoke.

"A cognitive interview is a way of interviewing an eye witness or a victim to get them to recount what happened at the crime scene. It's also a way of minimizing uncertainty in a victim's story." The young agent's voice was soft and sweet, spewing out these words like they came from a book.

"Now, would you be able to do this, Alice?" Agent Gideon gave me a look, one that said "You're going to do this anyways." I nodded and just sat still, looking down at my hands in my lap. "Now close your eyes...and just go back to around dinner time. Before you sat down to read your book."

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I found myself standing in front of the microwave, pulling out the chicken pot pie that had been cooking inside for six minutes. The smell was so good, I could feel my mouth watering. I was home alone, as usual. My father wasn't going to get home until seven or eight. And it was only five. So I took my pot pie and ate it at the table. I didn't realize I was spewing out all of this until I heard Agent Gideon's voice.

"Alice, was there anything unusual? Any strange noises or smells?" I closed my eyes even tighter and tried to remember. I turned around in my chair and looked out the window. A husky figure was there, walking through the tall grass we hadn't mowed in weeks. It was...dragging something into the shed. It looked like a body, a girl about my age, with blonde hair. I heard muffled shouts, muffled moans and crying. I stood and ran over to the back door, trying to open it to get outside. I forgot that my father locked the doors when I was home alone. I began to panic. I needed to help. I needed to help whoever he was dragging, whoever was going to die. I started to shout, screaming at the figure, screaming for anyone.

"Alice...Alice, calm down." The voice of the young agent brought me into reality, and I noticed that he had put his coffee down on the table and had a hand on my shoulder. "It's okay. We're right here. Agent Gideon and I are right here." I felt myself trembling. The hand on my shoulder was soft, and the look on the young agent's face was kind. "Nothing bad will happen. Close your eyes and we'll be right there." I looked into the agent's eyes and nodded. I looked down at my lap and closed my eyes once more.


	3. Chapter 3

**Hello, lovely readers! I hope all is well. I'm great, turned 17 yesterday. :) Well, this is another installment. It is from Reid's point of view, in the third person. I'm sorry if he seems a little OOC, I'm having a little trouble getting into the mindset of the handsome genius. But please enjoy, and rate and review, I want some criticism! :)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds. But I wish I did.**

* * *

The young agent walked into the BAU floor of the FBI building, walking towards his desk. He flung his messanger bag onto the flat surface, sitting down at his chair. His desk was filled with files upon files. _Morgan and Prentiss probably put all of them here after I left last night_, he thought. He sighed and looked up, noticing that no one else was there. Absolutely no one. He checked his watch, and noticed he was only hour earlier than usual. _Shouldn't the rest of the team be here soon? At least Garcia should be here..._He found himself walking towards her so-called "lair". The door was closed and lights off. So he was alone on the floor. He ran a hand through his short locks and let out a frustrated groan. _Where is everyone?_

He walked back to his desk and sat down. He pulled out his phone, but no one had contacted him. He could feel himself panicking, not knowing where everyone else was. He took some deep breaths, shook his head and put his hands on his thighs. The words, "I'm going insane," came from his lips. There was no need to get upset. He was just early, and no one else was there yet. Logically, they would be getting ready for the day, or they'd be sleeping. He sighed and began to tap out a rhythm with his fingers on his legs, the rhythm of a song his mother used to play on the record player for him when he was young. His mother..._I need to write to her again_, he thought. He let out a long and heavy sigh, realizing he just needed to stop thinking, then stood, heading towards the break room, realizing he had forgotten something before he left. Coffee. He needed his coffee.

He glided towards the room, opening the door with nimble hands. He practically ran to the coffee maker, hoping to be drinking the sweet liquid as soon as possible. He leaned against the counter, staring at the elevator while waiting for his coffee. No one was there yet, still. He thought this to be odd, but then again, a lot of things in his life were odd. He found himself smelling that his coffee was done, opened the cabinet above his head quickly and grabbed the cup he had put there. He poured himself a cup and added his usual sugar, then heard something buzzing. His phone.

He jogged towards his desk, coffee cup in hand. He pulled his phone out of his bag and held the phone up to his ear and spoke.

"This is Dr Spencer Reid."

"Where are you?" The voice of Hotch asked, his voice sounding flat as always.

"I'm at the office...why? Did something happen?" The young man took a gulp of his coffee, his mind beginning to race. The statistics that something happened without him knowing...

"There's a case. Morgan should have called you. We're in Hornesville. At their station. You can just drive, it's only about fourty minutes away. I'll send the address." Hotch had interrupted his thoughts, then hung up on him. He sighed and put his phone back into his bag. He hated driving by himself.

* * *

The young man found himself pouring himself another cup of coffee at a table in the station. He added his sugar, then put the pot back. He turned to observe the station, it was bustling and loud. This was new for this town, he assumed. He walked towards his team, who were sitting at a table, waiting for him. He kept getting bumped into, and he found himself holding his coffee close to himself, hoping not to spill it. He joined his team at the table, putting his coffee down and his messanger bag on the floor. He nodded in greeting, brushed his hair from his forehead and took a sip from his cup.

"Well, look who finally showed up," Morgan greeted him, smiling. The young agent shot him a look, almost a glare. Prentiss let out a laugh at the look, and JJ giggled quietly. "Sorry, pretty boy. Didn't mean to offend you." Morgan was just teasing, he realized. He shrugged it off and looked up as Gideon and Hotch walked in.

"This is Detective Carsen. Detective, these are Agents Derek Morgan, Jennifer Jureau, Emily Prentiss, and Dr Spencer Reid." Hotch's voice rang throughout the room, and he pointed to each person respectfully. Hotch and Gideon sat down at the table, and the team waited for the detective to speak.

"Thank you all for coming. A girl, Alice Blaine, came to the station yesterday. Ran all the way from her house, crying. She couldn't speak she was crying so hard. I'm friends with her father, so I sent some cars over to her house, to check and see if everything was okay, and they called with some...disturbing news." The detective spoke with a soft voice, as if afraid of what he was saying. "There were three girls found in the shed in the back yard of the house. They were all laying on their backs, their throats slit open. Evidence of rape was found." A man next to the detective, a police officer, handed out papers to the team, and they all looked through the papers and pictures. The young agent didn't like what he saw. Then again, he never did. Prentiss let out a sigh, and Morgan's face contorted into a look of disgust. "There were two findings like this in town. I searched through the records of all the crimes in this town, but they happened over fifty years ago. Same thing. Three girls all laying on their backs, throats slit and rape. Which is why we called you. Is this a serial killer?"

The young man's mind was moving faster than it had all day. "It could be a possibility. Were there any suspects for the cases from the past?"

"Yes, just one. Damien Blaine. He was arrested, then let go, because there was not enough evidence for him to be convicted," the detective replied. "He died about a week ago." His mind began to race. The death could be a stressor to the killer.

"Does he have family in town?" Morgan asked, putting the papers down onto the table. The detective nodded.

"The girl, Alice, and her father, Raphael," he responded. The young agent shuddered at the name. Raphael. It made him think of Tobias, those moments he spent in the cemetary, how he felt like he was going to- Gideon cleared his throat, pulling the boy from his thoughts. Gideon looked up from the papers, pulling his reading glasses off his face.

"Was the father anywhere to be found? At the crime scene, at his home, at work?" Gideon questioned, watching the movements of the detective. He was shuffling his feet, wringing out his hands, obviously upset.

"No, he was not." The detective's voice became distressed. He was obviously a close friend.

"I suggest that you get the girl. We'll need to talk to her," Gideon said. The detective left the room and Gideon spoke to the team. "What do we think so far?"

"The stressor of the UnSub was the death of Damien Blaine. It obviously upset them enough to kill the way Blaine did." The young man spoke, sure of his thoughts. Those around him nodded. "So, in a way, the UnSub is a copy cat. The UnSub is most likely troubled or has some sort of mental disease, and has a history of abuse - metally, physically or sexually."

"Can we assume the UnSub is the father of the girl? He's no where to be found, probably realized what he did and ran," Morgan spoke. Gideon nodded.

"All good ideas." Gideon said, waiting for more. The team talked a while more, then Hotch spoke up.

"Morgan, Prentiss, I want you to go to the shed. See what you can find, any signs of where the UnSub could have gone. JJ and I will look over the case files from Damien Blaine. Reid, Gideon, you talk to the girl." As soon as the orders were given, the detective showed up with Alice Blaine.


	4. Chapter 4

**Sorry, guys, this is kind of a filler chapter. But enjoy, and leave me reviews, please!**

**Disclaimer: I sadly do not own Criminal Minds. If I did, I would be in it. As Spencer Reid's girlfriend.**

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She was panicking. Screaming. He walked over to her, putting his coffee cup down and put a hand on her shoulder. "Alice...Alice, calm down." He spoke as kindly and softly as he possibly could. He didn't want to scare her even more. They needed information, and she had it. "It's okay. We're right here. Agent Gideon and I are right here." She was trembling. He squeezed her shoulder a bit, trying to be reassuring. He felt so awkward doing this, he never could calm people down. What if she continued to scream? "Nothing bad will happen. Close your eyes and we'll be right there." She looked into his eyes and nodded. She looked down and closed them again, continuing to remember. Gideon looked at the young man and nodded, giving him a "good job" smile.

* * *

I found myself leaving the table. I walked towards the stairs. My feet cherished the feeling of the soft rug, softer than it usually was. I stepped lightly up the stairs, avoiding all my books that were scattered everywhere. Harry Potter, The Scarlet Letter, Edgar Allen Poe, Stephen King, C S Lewis, Lemony Snickett, all well used. I got to the top of the stairs and found one of my favorites sitting at the top. Lewis Carroll. I picked it up, smiling, and walked into my room. I jumped onto my bed and began to read.

I heard Agent Gideon's voice. "Was there anything unusual once you started reading?" I thought for a moment. I had been reading for two hours. I heard the door open and close, assuming my father was home, but thought nothing of it. I was too into the book. But I did notice, the house was so...still. Silent. I was the only one doing anything.

Agent Gideon pulled me from my memories once again. He gave me a very small, but kind, smile. "You did very well, Alice." His voice was reassuring. I felt comfortable. I believed him, but only for a moment. What could I have possibly told them? I suddenly felt restless, unsure of what had just happened. "I'll come back to talk to you later. Dr Reid will stay with you for now." Agent Gideon nodded to the young man and then turned and left, leaving just me and him.

We sat in silence for a long time. He was the first to speak. "Twas brillig, and the slithy toves did gyre and gimble in the wabe: all mimsy were the borogoves, and the mome raths outgrabe." I was surprised. Truly surprised. I felt that I was the only person who knew that. The Jabberwocky poem. It was just a bunch of nonsense, but it was still amazing to me. I smiled at him.

"Beware the Jabberwock, my son! The jaws that bite, the claws that catch! Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun the frumious Bandersnatch!" I responded with the next verse of the poem, and I could see his eyes light up the tiniest bit. Those were the only words spoken between us for the rest of the time. I sat in my chair and thought.

_Where's my father? Shouldn't he be here by now? He should be coming and giving me a hug and telling me it'll all be okay. Why isn't he here? Where could be possibly be?_ The thoughts swirled around in my head. I began to feel abandoned. _He should be here. Has he left? Did he think I'm the one who killed those girls? _ I wasn't sure. I wanted to see him. I needed a hug from him, from anyone. I didn't think the agent would give me one, so I continued to sit silently. I would just have to wait.

Detective Carsen came in and looked at me. "Hun, we have a hotel for you to stay at. Some of the police officer's grabbed your personal belongings and they're in the hotel room. It's the same hotel as the FBI agents, so if you need anything, you can call me or talk to them. Is that okay?" He seemed upset. I was puzzled, but just nodded. I got up and followed him out of the station, and to his car. He drove me to the hotel, which sat just outside of town. He walked me to my room and handed me the key. "Stay safe, hun. If you leave, call me and tell me."

I gave him a nod and walked into my room. This was going to be the start of a long few weeks.


	5. Chapter 5

**Hello, readers! So it's been a while since I've posted. And I'm sorry. But here's another chapter! It's kinda short but, hey, I have writer's block, so don't hate me. xD Please review, I need some feedback! **

**Disclaimer: I sadly do not own Criminal Minds. But I totally wish I did.**

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I woke up in my hotel room, tired as ever. I rolled myself out of bed and sighed. It was going to be another long day. As the agents made progress on the case, I sat in the hotel, doing nothing. There wasn't anything interesting on the television, no movies, no pool in this hotel. I was bored out of my mind. The only people who had talked to me were Carsen and the young agent. Reid, he said his name was. Spencer. He was a doctor, and pretty much a genius. He bumped into me in the hallway as I paced throughout the hotel. We spoke of Doctor Who and how there had been a marathon on tv the night before. That was all I got from him. And all Carsen would tell me was how everything would be okay. It didn't seem like it. My father was still gone, and three more girls had been murdered. It was driving me crazy staying in the hotel, but I had to. I had no where else to go.

I grabbed clothes from the dresser and walked into the small bathroom. Turning on the shower, I stripped of my clothes, then looked in the mirror. Flawless. No marks, no scars, nothing. I sighed - I thought that I was so boring. Nothing special about me at all. I stepped into the hot shower and let the water wash those thoughts away. I stayed in the shower for a long time, hardly even washing myself. Only when the water got cold did I actually use the shampoo, body wash and conditioner. I dried myself with the soft towel and got dressed. I washed my face, and brushed my teeth, as any normal person would do, but what I saw when I stepped out of the bathroom was not normal at all.

My father stood in the middle of the hotel room. Blood was all over his clothes and face, and it was all over the man behind him as well. They were dirty, they looked like they hadn't showered in weeks. I felt terror strike my heart, this was not good. He had been missing, and now, here he is, bloody and smiling. My father was smiling at me, which was very strange. He hardly looked at me once I turned fifteen. Both of the men stepped towards me, their mannerisms menacing.

"Hi, Alice." My father's voice shocked me. It was harsh, gravelly. And it kind of sounded like he was...aroused in some way. Lustful.

"Father." I responded. I stepped back, my back hitting the bathroom door. The men were only centimeters away now. My father's hand grabbed my arm and he started to drag me from my room. The second man was only a few feet away as my father pulled me through the hotel and into a van. _Oh shit_, I thought, _this is NOT good. Not good at all. _The van was huge, like a working van. My father slid the door shut and the men got into the front seats. I sat on the floor, silent. I wouldn't speak. Nothing would happen if I was quiet. I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket. I pulled it out, hoping no one would notice. It was the detective. I couldn't answer. I'd be in a huge amount of trouble if I did...as if I wasn't already. I sighed softly, thinking over my situation. It was...rough.

We drove for a long time in silence. Once in a while the radio would come on, but the commercials had always driven my father nuts, so he mostly kept it off. The ride was smooth, but uncomfortable. The floor of a van is not the best place to sit for a long time. I felt like the ride was at least two hours. At least. Which meant we were far away from our hometown. Which didn't feel right. I closed my eyes, trying to ignore the feeling of terror that was rising in my body. I was in trouble, and adrenaline was rushing through my body. This was just not good.

* * *

"She's missing." The detective burst into the station, screaming. The young agent looked up from the old files and lifted an eyebrow. "Alice has gone missing. She's not answering her phone. Her hotel room is empty." The detective began to pace around the station. Gideon and Hotch began to talk to him, trying to quiet him down. _Missing? Could her father have taken her?_ His mind began racing. This was not good.


	6. Chapter 6

**Here's some more! Enjoy, and please review!**

**Disclaimer: I only own my own characters!**

* * *

I opened my eyes, sore as all get out. My muscles ached so terribly that I could barely move them. My vision was blurry, my mouth was extremely dry. I tried to move, I willed my tired and aching muscles to move. Then I realized that I didn't even remember falling asleep. I looked around at my surroundings, not recognizing where I was. It was hard to see, the light was dim, and there didn't seem to be any windows. A door stood tall in it's frame a few feet away from me. I continued to lay on the floor, staring at the dirty wall and I eventually forced my body to sit up. I put my hands on the ground and pushed myself into a sitting position. I suddenly noticed the sharp pain between my legs... '_Shitshitshit...this is not happening...what the fuck happened?! Oh god, please..._' My thoughts began to race. I felt my eyes watering, but I couldn't cry. I wasn't going to let myself.

I heard a creaking and saw the doorknob turning. I lay back down and took a sharp breath in, hoping to maybe seem like I was dead. A dark shadow fell over me, and a body stalked towards me. A hand reached out and grabbed my shirt, and began to pull me along down a long hallway. He wasn't fooled, he knew I was alive. I gave up on my acting dead and I stumbled along behind, trying to take in my surroundings. I recognized the place, I'd been there before. It was the old carousel warehouse, that closed down long before I was born. Some scandal forced the company out of business. The owners and workers literally abandoned the place, just leaving everything where it was. I looked around me quickly as we walked, trying to see if I could find a door that could get me out. We passed rooms with old machines and old figures, some tigers with the paint peeling off and we even passed a room with a broken down carousel, one that hadn't been used in years. No door outside, just doors to rooms. _Why would they bring me here?_ I pondered the question, the stinging between my legs now the least of my worries, and continued to be pulled along behind the man.

He threw me into another room, and smiled at me. It was an extremely creepy smile, one that chilled me to the bone. "Have fun." He shut the door and I turned to look around. This room had some gold poles leaning up against the wall, a machine in the corner and some animals in the other. And then the corner. Two other girls sat in the corner. I immediately recognized them. My two best friends. Willow and Jenna. Willow was my opposite, extremely tall and dark skinned. She had extremely curly hair and dark eyes. She always had a happy and friendly look on her face, but at that moment, she just looked lost. Jenna was like me, small and skinny, but she had flowing red hair and bright green eyes. Her face was covered in dirt, like it had been slammed onto the ground. She had tears in her eyes and a frown on her face. I sighed and just looked them both over once more. They were huddled together. I went over to them and kneeled down. I reached out and grabbed Jenna's hand.

"How long have you been here?" I managed to say. They looked at each other and Jenna began to sob.

"I think...a day? Maybe two." Willow responded. I felt myself begin to choke up. They'd been missing for a day, and no one knew? That wasn't right. It wasn't fair, the FBI and the police should've known. Someone should have reported them missing.

"I'll get us out of here. I promise." I told them, feeling tears fall down my face. It wasn't fair, just wasn't fair. I looked around the room. I ran over the door and began turning the door knob. Locked. Of course. There was a window. A window! I felt myself let out a sigh of relief, even more tears streaming down my face. A window...I looked around, seeing if anything could possibly smash the window. "Guys...there's a window. A fucking window!" I pulled them up to show them. I pointed to the window and started to jump up and down, excited. Their eyes widened and they looked at each other. They grabbed my hands and began to squeal. "We can get out of here..."

"Alice...oh god, Alice..." Willow pulled me into a hug. Jenna ran over to one of the poles and grabbed it, pointing it towards the window, which was high above our heads. As Willow cried happily in my arms, Jenna threw the pole, forcing it through the window. The glass shattered, dropping to the floor. I pulled Willow over to the window and jumped, my hands reaching the frame. Broken glass pierced the skin on my hands, but I didn't care. We were getting out. I pulled myself up and crawled my way outside, onto some dry grass. I turned around and reached out my hands. I felt Jenna's soft hands touch mine and I pulled her up. Willow followed right after her, and we both stood. I turned to face the other way. The road lay only a few feet ahead. I grabbed both Jenna and Willow's hands and began to run.


	7. Chapter 7

**Hello, lovely readers! Here's another installment. It's kind of short, but that's okay. Please review, I need feedback! ENJOY. ****Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.**

* * *

Jenna was sobbing while we ran, and Willow was, too. I could feel tears flowing down my face. We weren't going to get hurt. Not at all. We'd be safe...how wrong I was.

* * *

Spencer Reid looked up as two girls burst into the police station. Tears were streaming down their face, leaving tracks through the dirt that covered them. The girls looked quite disheveled, their clothes ripped and stained.

"Jenna! Willow!" The detective ran to them, pulling Jenna close to his body with one arm, and placing the other hand on Willow's shoulder. "What happened to you?!"

"We-we..." Jenna's tears began to fall harder and she let out a sob that shuddered throughout her body. _She's traumatized. Something must have happened._ Spencer stood and walked over to the girls and the detecive, his team mates doing the same. He could see the rest of the team analyzing them, so he just watched.

"We were taken. We were just walking down the street, just hanging out, and we were pulled into a van. We were taken to the old factory, the one that made carousels." Willow continued for Jenna. She wasn't crying as hard, but tears were still going down her face.

"Never mind that! Alice...oh, Alice...we were running and she tripped and they got her! They got her..." Jenna interrupted Willow, shouting. She seemed panicked, extremely nervous.

"Reid, Morgan, Prentiss, come with me. We're going to the factory. Gideon, JJ, stay here and interview them." Hotch's voice rang out over the crying, and Reid looked over to him. His face was stoic as always, and he was putting his gun into its holster. He pulled on his bullet proof vest and looked at his team. "Well? Let's go!" Reid reached into his bag and put his revolver into it's proper place, grabbed his vest, then followed Hotch out of the station.

* * *

"FBI! Don't move!" Morgan's voice rang out through the factory. Two men froze, towering over a figure on the ground. The figure was small, curled up in the fetal position. The two men glanced at each other, then booked from the factory. Hotch, Morgan and Prentiss ran after the men, guns drawn, ready to strike. Reid walked over to the curled up figure and kneeled down.

"Alice?" he questioned softly. The girl turned her face and looked up at him with wide eyes, sobbing. Green eyes met with brown and he reached out to her. He pulled her close to him as she sobbed, feeling quite awkward. He was never one to touch people, but he knew that she just needed to be held. He let her go after a moment and pulled her up to stand, examining her body. Blood soaked her clothing and dripped from her skin. She had cuts, deep enough to see the bone, everywhere. He reached over to the walkie talkie on his shoulder and spoke into it. "We need peramedics, now." He wrapped his arm around Alice's shoulder and began to lead her out of the factory. She would have scars. Too many scars.


End file.
